It Wasn't Me!
by Priseskimoe
Summary: All the boys are home on Tracy Island, but no one needs rescuing. They may be glad for the break, but hey, there's only so many days before they need to find something to occupy their time.


Virgil halted mid-strain. The sudden silence was electric, charging the air after the shocking break to Bach's "Christmas Oratorio" as Virgil was trying to get in the holiday spirit. Normally, when playing, he could tune out the entire world. There were times he hadn't even noticed his father or a brother come to sit in the lounge, less than ten feet away, for three hours. Today though, he was on high alert. A lack of rescues over the past few days had made the entire family restless. He was both glad and worried that Alan was home on break. Of course he missed his baby brother, but him being home means Gordon gets his partner in crime back. With the lack of rescues, the Terrible Two won't have much to stop them pulling stupid pranks.

When there was nothing else to be heard, Virgil decided he imagined the sounds, and went back to his playing. Twelve bars in, there was a irate roar. Scott, naturally. He sighed, no use in playing anymore. There wouldn't be quiet for a while now, he should probably go find a place to hide out the storm. He slowly shifted on the piano bench, sighing as he moved to stand.

He instead chose to sink back down onto the bench as first Gordon, then Scott tore through the lounge. Virgil hoped that sitting quietly out of the way would save him, but unfortunately, Gordon launched himself in that direction, yanking Virgil off the bench to provide a barrier between him and his angry eldest brother.

Virgil sighed again, long and loud. "What'd he do this time?" Not that he really needed to ask. He could smell the sickly sweet honey drenched in Scott's hair, not to mention seeing it slowly drip down along his temple, strands forming all the way down to his shoulders. He cringed, that wasn't going to be easy to clean.

"I swear it wasn't me!" Gordon sounded out from behind his Virgil-shield.

Scott growled in response, stepping forward towards the two. "Hey. Hey, hey, hey!" Virgil exclaimed, holding his hands up in front of his chest. "I don't want your muck all over me. Stay back. Gordon, stop trying to use me as a shield."

"But your my big brother! You're supposed to protect me!" Gordon employed a childlike-whine, as if that would make him appear more innocent.

"Gords, that rule doesn't apply when other big brothers are involved." With that, Virgil stepped to the side, while Scott simultaneously leapt forward, and Gordon dived backwards, colliding with the corner of a nearby sofa.

Gordon scrambled to his feet, vaulted over the couch, and made for the door, Scott hot on his heels. Virgil glanced at the tiny puddles of honey collected on the hardwood floor _. At least it's not carpet._

It wasn't until early that evening that Gordon and Scott were spotted again. Gordon maintained that he had nothing to do with the prank. Scott glared at him over dinner, still angry about being forced to give up chase to wash the honey out of his eyes.

Dinnertime was decidedly tense. Not a dark, angry tense, but a familiar 'payback is coming' tense as everyone waits for the penny to drop. Unsurprisingly, Scott did nothing. He usually takes a few days before retaliating, letting the target, ahem brother, live in suspense wondering what's coming to him.

What was surprising though, was when Gordon went to load the dishwasher, it was his night after all, and instead of behaving normally, said dishwasher shot water and soap straight at him. In seconds, he was soaked, and his family was laughing from behind him. He slowly turned to glare at his eldest, brown haired brother. That glare collapsed into a frown when he saw the look of shock on Scott's face. It wasn't him. Comprehension dawned and Gordon shifted his body to face Alan.

The laughter died in Alan's throat as he absorbed the anger radiating from Gordon's glare. "Gordon. No. It wasn't me. I'm on your side!" He shuffled his seat backwards, preparing to flee if needed.

Gordon's face scanned over the rest of his brothers, he already knew it wasn't Scott, John had no reason to target him, and Virgil, while capable, would have come up with something a lot more intricate. Alan it was, then.

And the chase was on.

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The rescue dry-spell continued onto the next day. Things were surprisingly quiet around Tracy Island. That is until there were twin shrieks from the Thunderbird Two silo. This time, the victims were unsuspecting Virgil and Alan.

"Oh come on!" Virgil shouted. "I didn't do anything. I blame you."

"Me?! What did I do?"

"You got Gordon last night and now I'm stuck in stabilizing foam just for being near you!"

"I already told you guys, that wasn't me!"

"Really, Alan? Then who rigged the dishwasher?"

"I don't know, maybe you? The _engineer?_ "

The boys bickered back and forth until finally, Virgil stretched as far as he could to shove Alan. There was a beat of silence as Alan looked up in shock from the ground, his hands now trapped in the drying foam as well. One look at his baby brother's betrayed face caused Virgil to collapse in a fit of laughter, resulting in him falling and being trapped from mid-torso down. He groaned and sighed when he realized he was no better off than Alan.

"Okay, so let's pretend I believe you. Who else? D'you think it was John? He doesn't usually get involved, but I guess that's why he would do it. No one would really expect it."

"It's not really John's style. He'd do something way worse. I still think it was Scott and he just hid it better than usual."

Back in his office, Jeff smirked as he shut off the surveillance feed in the Thunderbirds' hangar, satisfied with his work. He knew how dangerous it was to relax when his boys were restless, but he made sure they'd take their extra energy out on each other, rather than him. He may be middle-aged billionaire business man, but hey, he's really just a kid at heart. Besides, none of them have a clue.


End file.
